In Dreams
by Aoife-hime
Summary: Sonomi x Fujitaka There are some nights when she wonders what if she had been the one to fall from that tree all those years ago.


A/N: Just a short fic I wrote for a Secret Santa exchange. This was for Cal-reflector who requested 'Sonomi/Fujitaka: What if?'.

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**In Dreams**

Sometimes, when she can't find anything else to keep her mind busy, she lets it drift. Often times she wonders simply if maybe she could have gotten a slightly better deal out of the last meeting, though sometimes, loathe as she is to admit it, her mind strays to more domestic issues. She is a mother after all, albeit to a daughter who possesses more self-awareness and maturity than people more than twice her age and has required very little traditional mothering for many years now.

On this occasion, however, the moonlight is slanting through the window just so and an excited buzz lingers on her skin, refusing her sleep and she wonders what if she had been the one to fall from that tree all those years ago.

Would she have hated him at first sight had that first glimpse been from the vantage of looking down on him rather than as a horrified, detached observer? Probably, she decides – even at that age she was resolutely independent and would have been more annoyed than grateful that he would have been there to break the fall. Would she have been able to get over her wounded pride long enough to recognize the fact that she had the opportunity to live out many a young girl's 'damsel in distress' fantasy? Thirty-seventy odds on that, favoring the negative – pride is a stubborn thing in humans, in her especially, and she'd been rather too far in love with her cousin at the time to truly notice anyone else, let alone a disarmingly charming knight in shining armor.

But supposing that the less-than-favorable odds had swung in his favor, what would have happened then? Would she have married him right off? Definitely no. Even now, work has a tendency to supersede family if she doesn't make an effort to restrain her workaholic tendencies; she'd been far worse as a teenager. But in that little realm of possibilities, she can see herself ending up as his wife… eventually. Would their relationship have deteriorated so like her real marriage had, though? She'd be a fool to say no, that they would be perfectly content with each other until the end of time, but she has a suspicion that they would never have reached the same breaking point as she had once before with her ex. They would have their spats, certainly – he would hole up in his study with his books and refuse to speak to her, and she would rant and yell and lock him out of the house occasionally – but on the whole things would be good. Maybe even happy.

All these ideas are merely 'what if's' though, for she didn't fall out of the tree, nor, to be completely honest, would she have had she been in her cousin's place – she'd always possessed a greater sense of balance than charming Nadeshiko, and surely her athleticism alone would have prevented any fall. And suddenly it is almost overwhelming just how grateful she feels towards her cousin for falling out of the tree that day. It's a scary feeling, one she has never once dreamt herself capable of having, not after living with years of powerful, slow-burning resentment. But the thing is, without the events of all those years ago, there's no way she'd be where she is right now.

A low snuffling noise sounds next to her then, jerking her thoughts back to the present. He twists under the sheets, the pale moonlight seeming to caress the side of his face in place of her hand as he blinks blearily.

"How can you still be awake?" Fujitaka asks. She can just make out his eyes squinting slightly without the usual aide of his glasses and so help her she has yet to stop finding the expression anything but adorable. "You should sleep."

Sonomi nods, a feeling disturbingly akin to contentment curling in her chest like a warm trail of smoke. Leaning over, she kisses him, slowly, warmly, gratefully. He's still too much asleep to be considered truly awake, but she has found that she quite enjoys the lazy motion of his lips and the way his fingers dumbly weave through her hair when he's like this.

"Thank you for catching her," she whispers against his mouth as she pulls away slightly. If he wonders what she's talking about, he doesn't give a voice to his queries. She'll tell him when she's ready. For now, it's still night and the bed is intoxicatingly warm and he finds himself rather fortunate to not only have met one Amamiya that day all those years ago, but two.


End file.
